


Oh, God It’s Wonderful

by writesaboutboys



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:08:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesaboutboys/pseuds/writesaboutboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis pines for the kid that sits in the middle of the poetry section and reads. or. whatever. harry is an english major and he likes poetry and louis (somewhat). zayn is harry’s artist friend and he thinks louis’ bookstore friend is well fit (and other things). liam thinks harry’s artist friend is cute (and other things). niall (isn’t really in this much) is perfect in his own little world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, God It’s Wonderful

**Author's Note:**

> hat’s a little bookshop au complete self indulgence or w/e like the books and music and such yeah title comes from my lover, frank o’hara and yeah

So there’s like this thing. This boy thing. And he sits in the middle of Louis’ favorite aisle in the whole fucking bookshop. And he like, reads. Or. Whatever. But like, he reads poetry. And like, poetry is Louis’ favorite in the whole fucking bookshop. And it’s not fair, right. Because the boy has these like curls or ringlets or something and they’re really brown and they look really soft and Louis really wants to bury his fingers in it and massage his [scalp](http://fuckoffgallagher.tumblr.com/post/33969017538/oh-god-its-wonderful). And then he has these eyes and they’re huge and such a brilliant green it hurts. And he has these lips and they’re red like so fucking cherry  _red_. And he has these fingers, right. And they’re like so fucking long they make Louis whimper. And Louis wants to lick his face and eat him and like other stuff.

And one day Louis tries to talk to him. He really does. But. You see, the boy is like perfect. And Louis can’t do perfect (“What are you reading?” Louis had asked. “Um, Molly Peacock.” The boy had smiled up at Louis then and Louis wanted to fling himself off a building, because dimples and fringe and such. “Oh, who’s your favorite then?” Louis had questioned once he tried to put himself together. “Frank O’Hara or John Ashbery, just depends.” Louis got up and walked away then. He had come home to complain to Liam how he’s in love with that curly haired boy that sits in the middle of the poetry section. And Liam had rolled his eyes, because of course. And Louis had to explain “no, I’m really in love with him. Like, really. He was reading Molly Peacock, Liam.” And “he’s English major, Liam. That’s like hot, or summat” and “his favorite is Frank  _O’Hara_ , Liam, do you get it?” and “he wears jumpers when it’s warm, okay. He’s like endearing or whatever” and finally “I wanna lick his face.”).

So [now](http://fuckoffgallagher.tumblr.com/post/33969017538/oh-god-its-wonderful) here Louis is. Laying face down on the front counter, mumbling about how he only wants the boy to love him. “’M sure that’s not sanitary, mate.” Is Liam’s only reply. “Liam Payne, do you not understand or _[care](http://fuckoffgallagher.tumblr.com/post/33969017538/oh-god-its-wonderful)_  that your best friend for like ever is in utter, complete, absolute, downright, blatant, categorical, uncompromising, inclusive pain?” Louis whines from the counter. “You’re so melodramatic, Lou.” Liam says before stacking the [new books](http://fuckoffgallagher.tumblr.com/post/33969017538/oh-god-its-wonderful) atop of Louis’ arse. “Rude.” Louis mumbles not attempting to get up. “Oi! There’s a customer, get the fuck up Louis.” Liam hisses removing the books and nudging Louis. “No. If I can’t get the boy with the curls then no one can get books!” Louis yells-mumble yells or something-from his position. Liam doesn’t reply and when Louis looks up to see why his eyes land on a pair of cherry red lips pulled into a smirk and shining green eyes to match. Louis freezes before Liam physically pushes him off the counter and to the back of it.

Louis pops up immediately struggling to fix his clothes and hair and such. “Oh. Haha. Hello!” He nervously states fiddling with his fingers. Louis stares confusedly at the two books on the counter ( _The Great Gatsby_ and  _In Memory of My Feelings_  and Louis wants to fucking punch himself in the face because, well). “What?” the boy asks whilst chuckling (and Louis remembers that he doesn’t even know his name, for Christ sake). “I just- I don’t know. I thought you just like. Like you just read the books. But like didn’t buy them. Or something.”  Louis internally cringes and he can feel Liam snickering next to him, but he doesn’t blame him. Because that was a really dumb thing to say. Like wow Louis, great conversation starter, right- books, didn’t know you bought them. But the statement elicits a loud cackle from the boy in front of him and both Louis and the boy look startled at the outburst. “Well, I do. I collect them actually. Like I have a room dedicated to just like books and things in my flat. It’s small but it does.” And Louis thinks he might actually faint. Liam is ringing up the boy’s books now. And now the boy is leaving-wait. Why’s he leaving? No, boy, come back. “Hey, wait! What’s your name?” The boy chuckles before, “Don’t act like you don’t know I’ll be back in here tomorrow. And it’s Harry. Harry Styles. See ya, mate.” The boy-Harry-walks out of the shop with books in hand. Louis is in love with curly haired boy Harry Styles

* * *

 

The next week or so is better. If that’s what you want to call it. The boy comes back (and Louis expects it, really). But he smiles at Louis when he walks in this time or like a smirk thing. He sits his curly headed self down in the middle of the aisle as usual. But instead of reading he just lays there. Like, just smiling. And since when it the world oh-so-happy that a person feels the need to lie down in the middle of a bookstore and just smile. It isn’t.

“Why are you so smiley?” Louis asks and he restacks the books on that shelf (they don’t actually need restacking). “My crush talks to me now.” Harry says pawing at one of the furry balls on the end of his hat. “Oh.” Louis says when his heart takes a turn. And like, it really shouldn’t matter. Because, Louis just learned Harry’s name yesterday. And he shouldn’t care about Harry or his crush, but he does. And that’s that.

“Yeah, but it was like kind of awkward. Because he fell first and yeah.” “Nice.” Louis nods not really caring for the conversation anymore. Harry smiles at him before picking up a book Louis had just stocked (nuisance).  _The Selected Works of Langston Hughes_  is what it reads. Harry surveyed the back before, “Haven’t read much of him. You?” And Louis is still trying to wrap his head around how he and this fucking kid that he’s like pining for and has been since he first walked into the store are having a casual conversation about books. “I-yeah.” Is all that Louis says his mouth suddenly going dry. “Cool.” Harry replies laying back onto the floor and starts reading the book. And like that the conversation is over.

Louis walks back over to the counter where Liam seems to be ferociously typing something very, exceptionally important (he’s probably not). “Liam. Liam. Liam, Liam. Liam Payne.” Louis pesters until Liam turns away from his computer. “What?” he asks in the most agitated of ways. “I have a problem, right. So the kid-Harry-or summat.” He jabs his thumb behind his head to indicate Harry’s general direction. “He doesn’t know Langston Hughes and I still think I’m in love with him, problems here. Also, he has like this crush of some sort. Who fell for him or whatever, major problems.” “Well if he has a crush, leave him alone.” Liam says before turning back to whatever he was doing on the computer. Louis stares at him appalled, “How dare you tell me to quit!” He gasps, “that curly haired thing will be mine, if it’s the last thing I do. I swear to you, Liam Payne!” Louis hears a throat being cleared and jumps about a mile. See the thing is, Louis doesn’t blush. Never. Never has he ever blushed. Like blushing is taboo in Tomlinson’s world. So tell him why his face is about as red as Harry’s lips when he looks up and Harry’s stupid smirk and his stupid dimple to match.

“I-okay.” Louis starts and finishes accepting his defeat. Harry just smiles wider and slides the Langston Hughes book in front of him. “I want this one.” “Well, alright then.” Louis says and he’s ringing the book up and placing into a bag. Harry snatches the bag out of his hand and bounds out of the bookstore. “Bye, Louis. See you tomorrow!” Harry yells over the balls of his hat. “He’s so cute, Liam. Did you see him? Oh my goodness.” Louis gushes once Harry’s out the door. “I saw him, Louis.” Liam sighs. Louis gives a sigh of his own but his is more dreamy where Liam’s borders on exasperation. And okay, Louis is still in love with Harry Styles.

* * *

 

“Honey, I’m home!” Harry screams through the front door of his and Zayn’s shared flat. “And I come bearing gifts! Or. A gift. Whatever.” Zayn walks into the living room in his usual attire (washed out jeans, with smears of pastel crayons and paint on them, and a white t-shirt, although you can barely call it white now as it’s splattered with whatever color Zayn’s working with that day). “Babe, I missed you!” Zayn squeals planting a sloppy, wet kiss on Harry’s cheek. “Get off.” Harry mumbles before smiling even harder when Zayn pulls him in for a proper kiss. Zayn’s tongue swipes the bottom of Harry’s lip and Harry parts his mouth a bit before they both pull away. “So what did you bring me?” Zayn asks whilst digging into Harry’s bag. Harry grabs the bag from him.

“Nothing, you absolute wanker.” Zayn curls up into Harry’s lap. “But you said you came bearing gifts. Or a gift. Or something.” Zayn pouts up at him. Harry pushes Zayn onto the floor before, “I was talking to my book room, twat.” “Talking to a room in our flat is the first sign of insanity, Haz.” Zayn states all matter-of-fact like. “I became insane, with long intervals of sanity.” Harry recites back at him. “Yeah, right. Okay. I’m gonna leave you and your room. Just like, don’t get any of your spunk on the wall, because I’m not cleaning it up.” “You’re disgusting!” Harry shrieks before throwing a lone pillow at Zayn aiming for his six feet tall quiff. But Zayn dodges, “Gotta throw better than that if you wanna take down my hair, you proper arse!” Zayn shouts back before shutting himself up in his art room or a bit.

Harry walks to the back of the flat where is book room is located. It’s a small space and it’s made even smaller with the amount of books and things everywhere. But Harry can deal. He runs his fingers along side the wood on his bookcase. He really loves this room. It’s like his sanctuary, his asylum, his safe haven or like refuge from the real world. The real world with its bills and endless jobs and fast moving people and no manners and death and pain and depression and oppression and desperation and its run, run,  _run_. In this room, when Harry closes the door, he’s shut off from all of it. Here it’s like time literally stops. And when Harry curls up in one of the beanbags in the center of the room he can feel nothing but words.

And most would say words don’t have a feel to it. But it just takes a true writer or reader to be able to experience it. See the thing is words have this distinct fixation about them. They have a certain smell and touch and taste and sound. And Harry has fallen in love with it. Every flaw, crack, witty word, metaphorical phrase, simile, character, story, plot, and setting. It took him about three years of having book after book thrown in his face and demanded to be read (his father is a writer and he loves him simply because of that). And now as he dives more into his English major at the local uni, he doesn’t get books thrown at him. More as, he throws himself at books and demands that they read him.

Harry wraps himself into the warmth of his favorite chunky cable knit sweater and cracks open his new book and gets started. He’s sure he’s in that room for hours, because Zayn comes knocking quietly at his door (Zayn knows not to interrupt Harry when he’s in this room and if he does he does it quietly). “You hungry, Haz?” Zayn asks softly. Harry just shakes his head and keeps on reading. Harry’s pretty sure he fell asleep in that as he wakes up in the same position. But his book has been placed on the floor beneath the page he was on neatly marked and he has a worn blanket thrown over his body. I love you Zayn, Harry thinks before he drifts into more sleep before his first class.

* * *

 

(And it’s like this, Harry comes in everyday after that (not like he didn’t before, but still) and Louis has a conversation with him everyday. And it goes like that for about two weeks. They talk about books and things and it’s pretty wonderful. But the problem is, Louis can’t help but fall more in love with Harry as he talks about his sister and his mum with the more adoring tone ever to be used by anyone.)

“Liam, we’ve been open the whole day and Harry hasn’t come in once. What if he’s dead, Liam? Oh my god, what if he read himself to death? Is that possible? Like, read so much your eyes fall out of your head.” Just as Liam was about to turn around and tell Louis to shut up the bell at the front of the shop dings and Louis is bouncing to the front leaving Liam’s side.

“Hi, Louis.” “Hey, Harry.” “Okay, yeah. I-um. I came here to, like. Ask you something.” Harry stutters slightly. “Ask away.” Louis replies smoothly, but his heart is running a mile a minute. “So-um do you wanna come over? To my flat-to see my book room or something. But I mean, after work of course. But like, you don’t have to say yes. I just-I thought it’d be cool. Because like, Zayn doesn’t really care and I don’t know. You’re kinda the first person to like connect with me, yeah?” Harry’s head is hanging low and he won’t stop swinging his leg around. But Louis honestly can’t stop smiling (doesn’t want to). “Yeah, sure. I-yeah, okay. Can I like have your number? Or. Something-I don’t know.” Louis says nervously. Like, of course he’s nervous. He’s been pining for this boy for half a year and he’s being asked to his flat to see his books. Louis thinks he deserves a little nervousness here. “Right. Yeah. Here.” Harry says pulling out his phone while grabbing Louis’.

They exchange numbers and Harry is putting his phone away. “Right. Okay, I’ll like text you or something. Yeah?” Harry blushes at nothing really, “Yeah, good. I mean-okay. Bye, Louis.” And with

that he’s out the door. As soon as Harry is out of sight Louis runs back to Liam’s side. “Liam, did you see? Harry practically asked me out to his  _flat_. Liam, do you even care?” Louis asks waving a hand in front of Liam’s face. “Who-who’s that?” Liam stutters gaze stuck on the window in the front. Louis’ head whips around to find some pretty boy with an abnormally tall quiff of dark hair and a couple of tattoos on his arm as far as Louis can see, nuzzling Harry’s head. Louis’ not gonna lie. His heart hurts a little. But it shouldn’t. Because, yeah Harry just asked him out, but it doesn’t mean he owns him or anything. But he can’t help but want to curl up in a ball of nothing when he sees the boy place a firm kiss on Harry’s mouth and Harry pulling away smiling. He shouldn’t, but he does.

Harry walks the other way while the boy strolls into the bookstore. He grabs a mint off the dish bowl at the front counter. “Hello, mates. You’re Louis, right?” Zayn asks setting his forearms on the desk. “Maybe. Who are you?” Louis spits out wanting nothing more than to bite him (not in the kinky way). Because like, who does this person think he is. He’s just gonna go and kiss his-whatever Harry is to him and then think it’s all okay when he calls Louis his  _mate_. “’M gonna take that as a yes. And I’m Zayn, Harry’s roommate.” Oh, Zayn. His roommate. Oh. Who kisses their roommate, Louis doesn’t (though he will admit he has snogged Liam once or twice, but those were truly experimental and drunken happenings). Louis is about to say something (sarcastic, no doubt), but Zayn beats him to it and turns his attention on Liam. “Hi. Don’t think Harry’s talked about you much, though he should. Fucking bastard keeping hot people from me.” Liam blushes at Zayn terrible come on, if you ask Louis. “I-we don’t really talk. But-yeah. Thanks.” Liam stammers. “Could you maybe show me the art section. Or like, whatever it’s called.” Liam nods enthusiastically and before Louis can interject his “that’s my job, Liam” Zayn and Liam are walking towards the arts section, too close together for two people who just met, if you ask Louis.

It’s closing time and Louis has almost forgotten about his sort of date with Harry until he texts him.

**Unknown Number**

**Hey, it’s Harry. And um I was just like, idk making sure you were still coming over. I texted you my address before. But like, I don’t know to be like pushy or anything. And-yeah. This is stupid ignore it. But-yeah. Xx**

Louis couldn’t help but laugh. Like, who stutters through a text message, really.

**Louis**

**you’re fine mate, yeah i’ll be there. see ya then xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Louis shoots off before locking his phone and proceeding to lie on the counter. He stares at the front door for about five minutes before laughing. He really just noticed how no one except Harry and maybe a few other people have ever walked through those doors. Not counting Harry’s friend roommate person, of course. Speaking of, he and Liam have been gone since 4 o’clock and it’s bordering 6 o’clock now. Being as curious as he is, Louis wonders off in the general direction of where the pair walked earlier. He wishes he hadn’t.

There sitting on the floor in the employee workroom were Zayn and Liam with Zayn’s hands down Liam’s pants. Louis got there just in time for the show, though. Because as soon as he opened the door, Liam’s face got this look of pure ecstasy before going lax in Zayn’s arms. “I-okay. Yeah. Okay. I wish I hadn’t seen that, oh my god I’m gone.” Louis rushes before speeding away from the room. Zayn probably wipes his hand off on one of the spare towels they have back there (for what reason, no one is sure). Before he catches up to Louis grabbing his arm. Louis turns around and stares at Zayn’s hand with this kind of ‘you just wanked by best friend off with that hand and now you’re touching me’ look and Zayn immediately removes his hand. “Don’t look at me like that.” Zayn says and Louis rolls his eyes. “No really, he was like getting a boner from his books or whatever, so I helped him with his problem.” Louis stares at Zayn before walking back to his desk.

Another ten minutes pass and Zayn is out the door and Liam is back at the computer, still flushed as ever. “Louis I-” Louis interrupts him before he can get any further. “I don’t want to hear the gory details, really.” Liam nods before setting his head on his arms placed on the desk. “Hey, look, Liam. It’s fine, really. I don’t care what you do. I wish I wouldn’t have seen it, but like it’s fine. Really, Liam.” Liam nods again before lifting his head up. “Okay.” He says quietly, like he’s ashamed or something. And Louis should have expected this. “Right. Closing time. I love you, Li. You know that, right?” “Yeah, I know. Love you too, Lou.” Louis kisses Liam on the cheek before smiling because, “closing time” and “Harry’s date.” Louis literally runs out of the shop after Liam locks up. “What are you in such a rush?” “Liam, I have a date! Didn’t you hear?!” Louis squeals (he’s a teenage girl). “Ah, with the infamous Harry Styles, right, got it. Have fun.” “Yes, but I’m coming home because I have to pick out an outfit.” “What’s wrong with you’re wearing?” “It’s not perfect for Harry.” Louis whines (he’s literally a teenage girl).

* * *

 

When Louis get situated with his outfit and whatnot (his favorite red jumper with rolled up blue chinos and his blue and red Oxford’s to match) he heads over to Harry’s flat. It takes him about five minutes in his beat up car. He knocks about once before he hears a loud crash then suddenly the door is being swung open with a smiling Harry on the other side wearing nothing but a long chunky white jumper that grazes his thighs (Louis can’t complain). They both just stare at each other (Louis more at Harry’s thighs) until Harry speaks up. “Right. I didn’t know what time your bookstore closed and you didn’t call and I-okay. I’m not wearing trousers, but I’m wearing pants, so that’s good. Most people see me naked the first time they meet me. It’s a bad habit I have and it’s cold outside and warm in here so ‘m gonna let you in now.” Harry rambles before stepping to the side to let Louis stroll by him.

Harry was right, it is quite cozy in his flat. “So, I’ve got tea on if you want some? But you don’t have to take any. But you probably know that. Unless you’ve been like forced to drink people’s tea against your own will. That’d be strange. Though, I bet it could happen. But you don’t have to drink mine. It’s probably not good anyway.” Louis has to physically slap his hand over Harry’s mouth to get him to stop talking. “Harry you’re rambling.” Louis says whilst chuckling at Harry’s muffled noises. “Right, I do that when I get nervous. Sorry.” He answers shyly. He guides Louis to the back of the flat where his book room is. Before letting Louis through the door, he turns to him face deadly serious.

“What I’m about to show you no one but maybe Zayn has seen, okay. Like this is my sanctuary. And you have to promise not to take anything. Though, I don’t think you would. It’s just-yeah.” Louis nods as he stares at Harry in awe. Harry opens the door slowly before allowing Louis to walk in. Louis would be lying if he said his breath wasn’t taken away at the sight of the room. It wasn’t like, a palace. Or anything. But it was perfect and Louis could tell Harry loved it. The room has books placed neatly (though some not so neatly) on wooden bookcases lining the walls. The wood is ridiculously worn, but it gives the room a kind of antique look. The ceiling is sporadically lined with posters, from music concerts to book festivals. The books go from ceiling to floor and all Louis wants to do is wrap himself up in a blanket and just read every single one of them. Harry gestures to one of the beanbags placed in the center of the room and Louis takes a seat.

“So we should do proper introductions, yeah?” Harry asks looking up at Louis through his hair. “Me first. I’m Louis Tomlinson and I like my tea with no sugar and my books freshly printed.” “And ‘m Harry Styles and I like my poetry modern and my jumpers chunky cable knit.” They both stare at each other a while before Zayn is gradually opening the door. “Hazza? You’re tea’s ready.” Harry nods whilst keeping his gaze locked on Louis, “Want tea?” “Sure.” Louis replies, starting to blush from Harry’s intense stare, “With no sugar,” he adds just for a bit of cheeky. Harry smiles before getting up and going to get the tea. Zayn stares at him a bit too long, if you ask Louis. Harry’s back in no time but he doesn’t sit down until Zayn has given him (another) firm kiss on the mouth. Harry just looks worriedly at Louis then Zayn before ushering him out of the room. Harry sets the mugs in between him and Louis when Louis starts to speak. “So you and Zayn. Like what’s going on there?” He asks, quite bluntly. “We-yeah. Um, we do this thing. Where we kind of hook up sometimes? But, it’s like a comfort thing. Because neither of us want to be alone, and like-yeah.” Harry says fiddling with his fingers. “That’s kinda sad, mate.” Louis says honestly. “Yeah.”

“So, um. Your books. You read all these?” Louis asks trying to break the tension following his statement. “Yeah, I have a lot of free time and this is what I do. It’s pathetic really. ‘M 18 and I’m sitting here collecting books.” “I’d say it’s quite admirable.” Louis says poking Harry in the cheek. “Thanks.” Harry smiles Louis’ finger slightly falling into the dent now in Harry’s face. “You want to see all of them. They’re not like freshly printed or anything.” Harry says grinning at Louis, “but they’ll suffice, I think.” “Yeah, I do. Lead the way, curly.” Harry gets on his hands and knees and crawls to one side of the room. Louis follows. “Right, so this is my American section. It has books and poems with like, American themes or like written by Americans or take place inAmerica, yeah.” (Louis likes the way Harry says America, because it comes out like Am-eri-cuh. Emphasis on the cuh.) And it goes like that. Harry crawls to one part of the room. Louis follows. Harry explains what that section is. Louis listens. Harry’s eyes light up when he gets to the music section. Louis smiles. They get to the classic section and it’s Louis’ eyes turn to light up. And it’s Harry’s turn to smile.

They spend the rest of the night like that, crawling around Harry’s room, picking their favorites, reading some aloud, laughing at each other’s stupid jokes, dancing (badly) to the music faintly playing from Zayn’s room. Then it’s time for Louis to go, except neither him nor Louis really want him to. “I have to go now. It’s late and I have work tomorrow.” Louis says disappointedly. “Yeah, right.” Harry says neither of them moving from their position on the floor. Harry tries to get up, though, but he ends up rolling onto the floor his white jumper riding up. And Louis had actually forgotten Harry wasn’t wearing trousers, but it’s all he can think about right now. Harry’s arse is on display in his tight Calvin Klein pants. And Harry turns around embarrassed and licking his lips. Louis wants to lick his lips. “Right, sorry.” Louis doesn’t respond, just grabs Harry by the collar of his sweater and collides their mouths together. Harry moans at the abrupt contact and immediately flushes at the rather embarrassing sound. Louis’ hands fly up to bury themselves in Harry’s mop of curls. Harry hands tighten to an almost vice grip on Louis’ waist.

Louis swipes his tongue along the bottom of Harry mouth before receiving easy access inside. It’s a battle of the tongues soon and Harry wonders idly where Louis learned to do that with his tongue and if he could teach him and if he can never stop doing it. Louis breaks away slightly, just long enough to catch his breath. But Harry is suddenly pulling on Louis bottom lip bringing their mouths back together. And Louis can’t help but whimper, because honestly. Harry is sucking on his bottom lip. Just sucking and that’s that. Louis nudges him and Harry only smirks. “Put your fucking tongue in my mouth.” Louis growls before Harry obliges. They both break away soon, not only for breath but, because Louis really does have to leave now.

“I-um. That was-wow.” Harry breathes neck tucked in Louis’ collarbone. “Yeah. Jesus, I really do have to go now.” Louis says equally out of breath. “Yeah, I know. Right. Um, see you tomorrow?” Harry says more of a question really. “Of course. You’d think I’d just leave you hanging or summat. Just come by the store.” Harry nods and walks Louis to the door blushing furiously when Louis leaves with a goodbye kiss. Dammit, Harry thinks he’s in love with Louis Tomlinson.

* * *

 

Louis was completely blissed out when he got home that night (morning actually). Liam wasn’t awake when he got home, but he silently promised to tell him all about his night the next morning at work.

* * *

 

“Morning, Lou.” Liam mumbles drowsily the next morning. “Morning!” Louis replies way too cheerfully for this hour, if you ask Liam. Liam eyes Louis careful before, “why are you so happy?” Louis gasps louder than necessary before, “Is it a crime to be happy these days? Why can’t a guy just be happy without resent from his best friend?” Liam rolls his eyes whilst getting a bowl of cereal before, “Calm down. Jesus, does this have to do with Harry.” Louis follows Liam’s suit pouring himself a cup of coffee on the way. “Everything in my life does not revolve around Harry, thanks very.” Liam doesn’t believe it for a second and just stares at Louis until he comes clean. “But if you must know, we snogged last night.” “Good. Good for you and him, I guess.” “Yes. Very,  _very_  good.”

(It’s the same at work. Louis won’t shut up about Harry until Liam pushes Louis into the bookcase knocking it down.) (Claiming “it’s your fault, Liam, you clean it up.” With Liam saying how, “you wouldn’t shut up about Harry, I had to.” Until Harry actually comes to see Louis later and helps pick up the books. Which Liam thanks him profusely for.) (Then Louis and Harry are making out in the storage room. Louis leaves off how Zayn got Liam off in there, though.) (Then it’s the same for another two weeks. Except in these two weeks, Liam and Zayn have grown excruciatingly close.) (Liam claims it’s because “you and Harry are always together what the fuck are we gonna do.”) (Louis just smirks and he doesn’t stop until Liam asks if Harry has even asked him out yet.) (Louis frowns at that, because he actually hasn’t, but it’s okay, really.) (It’s okay.)

* * *

 

“How are you and mister tattoo doing?” Louis asks one morning as they’re eating their breakfast. Liam arches an eyebrow, “what do you mean? We’re not even like, together.” “Good,” Louis says before he can stop himself, kind of like word vomit. “He hooks up with Harry when he’s lonely so that’s probably what you are to him. Nothing, really.” And Louis wants to shrivel up at the way Liam’s face looks right now, crushed.

Louis tries to open his mouth to take back everything he just said, but Liam is out of the kitchen now and making his way to his bedroom shutting the door. “Shit.” Louis says to himself before heading to the bathroom to take a shower.

* * *

 

Work isn’t any better, if anything it’s worse. Louis can actually see the hurt still clearly shown on his best friend’s face. Whenever Louis comes close, Liam walks away. All in all, Louis’ day is going completely shit. And it sucks too, because like, the past weeks have been so amazing that he was prepared to have a great day. But his big fucking mouth had to go and ruin it. He’s slumped over the counter, head in arms when Harry walks through the front doors of the shop. He taps Louis on his arms with no response. “Louis, Lou? Are you dead?” Harry asks and startles when he hears Louis’ response (a mumbled “I wish.”). “What’s wrong? C’mon, sit up.” Louis sits up finally, eyes red and puffy, “Shit. What happened?” Is Harry’s immediate question and “I fucked up.” Is Louis’ immediate response.

Harry guides Louis from around the counter and into his favorite section, Classical. They sit down on the plush floor when Louis instinctively puts his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Louis, what did you do?” Harry asks tentatively. “Don’t get mad, I know you like Liam.” (And that is true. Over the last weeks Harry has been coming to the shop more and getting to know Liam when Louis wasn’t available. And Harry has grown to really like Liam). Harry just sighs before nodding his head. “Okay, so this morning I asked how he and Zayn were doing then he said something about them not actually, like, being together and I said something bad.” “What did you say, Louis?” Harry asks worriedly, not prepared to hear Louis’ answer. “I told him that was good, because you and Zayn hook up when he’s lonely and I basically said Liam was nothing to Zayn.” Harry pushes Louis off his shoulder as soon as the words leave his mouth. “What the fuck Louis? Why would you even say that? Me and Zayn don’t even fucking hook up anymore!” Harry exclaims, his voice sounding impossibly loud in the quiet and empty bookstore. “You said you wouldn’t get mad.” Louis squeaks curling up into himself. “Of course I’m fucking mad, Louis! Not only did you tell Liam, someone who obviously cares about Zayn more than he’s letting on probably, that Zayn doesn’t give a fuck about him and they only did whatever they did together because he was fucking lonely, but you made me sound like a sad and lonely shit!” Harry cries getting up from where he was sitting.

“I didn’t know Liam cared that much!” Louis yells back not caring who hears at this point. “And, how the fuck was I supposed to know! I thought you still shagged or snogged and whatever hell you two do when you’re lonely!” Louis screams and Harry’s face falls. “You actually think that. That I’d snog and fuck Zayn while I’m with you?” Harry whispers to the ground, “what kind of person do you think I am?” “I don’t know, Harry. You never asked me out properly, nor did you let on that we were exclusive, so how was I supposed to know?” Louis asks, just exasperated at this point. “Then do you-have you hooked up with other people then?” Harry inquiries softly eyes locked on the ground. And suddenly, the pattern in the carpet becomes interesting to Louis as he answers, “No, like. I thought we were exclusive or whatever. But since you never said anything, I didn’t know if you did.”

Harry looks up before getting on one knee, “Louis Tomlinson, would you go out with me? Like exclusively. But before you say yes. Or no. I need to tell you, I’m shit at this okay. Like, not only asking people out, but relationships in general. But if you wanna try I do.” Harry looks up at Louis through his fringe to see his eyes have become crescents since he last looked at him. “Get up, twat. And yeah, I wanna try.” And Louis kisses Harry languidly and surely and honestly, that settles it.

“I have to give Liam something,” Harry says in Louis mouth, “It’s from Zayn.” Harry finishes when he sees Louis’ arched brow. “Yeah, okay. I need to apologize again anyways.” Louis grabs Harry’s hand and leads him to where Liam is. Harry looks down at their intertwined hands and suddenly it’s really hot in the store.

“Liam, I just-shit. Okay. I’m so sorry, like, I didn’t know you actually liked Zayn or whatever. But like, I’m really sorry okay. And it turns out he and Haz don’t even hook up anymore! Yay, right. And I hope you can forgive me.” Louis rushes out when they finally find Liam. “Put your puppy dog eyes away, Tomlinson. I forgive you.” Liam says before Louis is sprinting into his arms. “I love you, Liam. And I’m sorry again.” “It’s really fine, Louis. And love you, too.”

“But anyways, Haz here has something to give you. It’s from Zayn.” Louis smiles as he steps out of the way for Harry. “It’s his number, I don’t know. Call him or something. He couldn’t give it to you himself, because he has no balls whatsoever. But yeah.” “Thanks,” Liam replies blushing at the white strip of paper in his hands.

* * *

 

“Right, what’s your favorite quote from Frank O’Hara then?” Louis asks legs splayed atop of Harry’s in his bed. “Oh, god it’s so wonderful to get out of bed and drink too much coffee and smoke too many cigarettes and love you so much.” Harry recites and then, “Nice.” Louis replies before, “and always embrace things, people earth sky stars, as I do, freely and with the appropriate sense of space.” “It is even in, I am a real poet. My poem is finished and I haven’t mentioned orange yet. It’s twelve poems, I call it oranges.” “A glass of papaya juice and back to work. My heart is in my pocket, it is Poems by Pierre Reverdy.” “We’re such losers.” Harry snorts. “And why would you say that?” Louis asks, hands digging into Harry’s curls just a bit more. “I don’t know, we’re spending a Saturday afternoon laying in your bed, reciting Frank O’Hara quotes” “I, for one, thinks it’s a great way to spend a Saturday.”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs before leaning up to kiss Louis and that’s probably one of his favorite things now. He loves the way he’s able to touch and kiss and caress and graze without hesitancy. “So you heard anything from Zayn about Liam?” Louis asks after moments of comfortable silence. “Yeah, Zayn asked him out they’re going on a date tomorrow, I think.” “Fucking bastard never told me.” Louis mutters mostly to himself. “Let’s stop talking about them yeah?” Louis nods and leaves open mouth kisses on Harry’s bare shoulder. “Yeah.”

* * *

 

“So, um, I don’t really know how to go about this.” Zayn stutters in front of the movie theatre. Liam chuckles nervously before, “Yeah. Me too.” “It should start with this, I think.” And Zayn grabs Liam’s hand. Liam flushes from head to toe; he can feel it, before nodding and walking into the movie.

(The movie was great, if you ask Liam. Not only did they go and see Toy Story 3D, which Liam knows Louis told Zayn that is his favorite, but the whole time Zayn held his hand.) (At one point he left to go use the bathroom or summat, but he returned just ask quickly to wrap his arm around Liam.) (After the movie, however, was the best, if you’re asking Liam (or Zayn or the random person Liam yelled what happened to) (Zayn had released Liam’s hand and Liam had pouted before Zayn’s lips were on his to kiss the pout away.) (“Me and Harry don’t hook up anymore.” Zayn had said on the way walking Liam home. “Yeah, I know. You’re not lonely anymore, right?” Liam had asked holding Zayn’s hand tighter. “Nah, I’ve got you now.” Zayn replied squeezing Liam’s hand) (And if Liam had come home and squealed because of the kiss or the hand holding or what Zayn told him, then only Liam had known) (And of course there were questions from Louis asking, “how was it?” and “did you guys kiss?” and “you kissed didn’t you?” and “is he good?” and “when are you going out again?” and he wouldn’t shut up until Liam pushed him into another bookcase knocking it down as he did the other one.) (Both Harry and Zayn walked in the shop when Liam and Louis were arguing who was going to clean it up. Repeating the, “it’s your fault, Liam” and the “you wouldn’t shut up, I had to.” Harry rolled his eyes and Zayn looked worried. Zayn greeted Liam with a hello kiss and so did Harry to Louis, it was nauseatingly cute, really. They both helped this time, and Liam and Louis thanked them lots.)

* * *

 

“You’re favorite Irishman is here!” Niall yells dropping his bags at the front of Harry and Zayn’s flat. Zayn and Harry come running from Zayn’s room and charging into Niall’s arms. “Niall, Jesus, I’ve missed you!” Harry exclaims tucking his head into Niall’s neck. “Missed you too, Haz.” Niall says fondly before Zayn pushes Harry away from Niall to get his hug.

Zayn and Harry take Niall everywhere they can. Niall explains how “’m finishing my solo album, but I still play in like pubs or whatever, ‘s fun.” Harry talks about his English classes saying how “I love the way we like, really get in depth with the way the stories and such were written. And it’s all gorgeous, really.” But of course Zayn and Niall don’t get it, it’s okay, though, Harry loves them either way.

“So, are you both still single or are you doing that hook up thing when you’re lonely or whatever?” Niall asks with a mouth full of food, bits of chicken flying to the table. Harry stares at him in disgust before scoffing and, “No. We’re both taken actually.” Harry says as both his and Zayn’s cheeks go ablaze. Niall looks up from his food with an arched brow. “Oh?” he asks keeping his gaze locked with both Harry and Zayn. “Yeah.” They both reply softly. “Ah, so when do I get to meet the lucky gals?!” Niall exclaims rubbing his hands together, kind of like he has some type of mischief planned. But Harry and Zayn just blush even more when Zayn mutters and, “they’re guys.” Niall’s face doesn’t really change whatsoever, and that’s probably their favorite thing about him, his ability to not care and just accept. It’s quite endearing, really. “Well, then, the lucky fellows!” Niall cries with his attempt at a posh British accent.

* * *

 

Harry and Zayn bring Niall to Liam and Louis’ flat, unexpected and Louis complains how “he didn’t have time to get ready.” But Niall just waves his hand and claims “nonsense” and “I don’t really care what your flat looks like, mate. It’s the person that matters, am I right?” and not even Louis could even disagree with that.

“So, there Harry was in the front of the lunchroom with his trousers at his ankles!” Niall yells (if he can say anything through his laughs). Harry’s face is so red Louis’ afraid it might explode as he ducks his face into Louis’ neck. “I remember that, Jesus, the girls never got over that one.” Zayn sighs, reminiscing. “Oh! Louis, I gotta tell you about the band me and Harry had when we were younger,” Niall states looking at Louis excitedly. “We actually didn’t have a band, Niall I think you’re going crazy, we should probably get you to a hospital. Or. Like an asylum or something. The point is we should leave the house and not share anymore stories. C’mon everybody!” Harry rushes looking at Louis nervously. “Twaddle, Harry. Yeah, Niall, tell me about the band.”

Niall proceeds to tell Louis and Liam about the band he and Harry had (since Zayn already knows), London Dirt or something of that nature. He goes on to tell them about that time Harry wrote a song about his girlfriend at the time and compared her to cheese, shredded cheese. By the end, Louis, Liam, Zayn, Niall, and even Harry a little are rolling on the carpet laughing until their stomachs hurt.

* * *

 

See, the thing is, Harry knows people don’t like, accept homosexuality or like, bisexuality or pan sexuality, in Harry’s case or summat. But he’s never really had to deal with abuse first hand. So when some kid takes his favorite book,  _In Memory of My Feelings_ , and writes ‘aid carrying faggot’ on the cover and rips out a couple of pages, because apparently the guys saw him and Louis when Louis dropped him off. And apparently “faggots shouldn’t be allowed to go to school here” so that makes it okay, or something. Harry can’t be expected to do anything else but skip the rest of his classes. And since he’s already done that, why not go see Louis and cry in his arms or whatever.

“Shit, Harry.” Louis gasps examining Harry’s (newly ruined) book. Harry sniffles before turning more into Louis, “Yeah.” He says not wanting to look at the damage of the book anymore.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god. I didn’t, Jesus.” Louis splutters, not really knowing what to say in this kind of situation. “Yeah.” Harry repeats snuggling even closer and kissing Louis’ neck. And Louis doesn’t really know what to do so he kisses Harry back. But he remembers how not too long ago Harry said Louis’ writing cheered him up once. So Louis decides he’s going to write Harry a poem.

* * *

 

“Hey,” Harry says causally slinking into the seat across from Louis. Louis slides a piece of crinkled notebook paper over to Harry. “It’s like, a poem. It’s not good or anything, but I know you said you liked my writing, I still don’t know why. But I-uh-I wrote it for you. So I-um, I hope you like it. And-yeah.” Harry gives Louis a reassuring smile before unfolding the paper.

_What is this a sonnet?_

_No, probably not_

_So, dark brown ringlets_

_And they’re soft-_

_I would know_

_Kinda like silk except-_

_I’ve never touched silk_

_It’s just, the comparison seemed fitting_

_And he has these eyes right_

_And they’re like green, like too green_

_Emeralds, they remind me of them_

_Gorgeous or breathtaking_

_Those would be the only words to describe them, really_

_He has this body and it goes on for years, decades, centuries_

_And it’s so lean and muscular_

_And I kind of want to climb it like a tree_

_And he’s so nice_

_So accepting_

_It’s my favorite thing, quite endearing_

_He makes me want to take him to a music festival_

_I don’t even like music festivals_

_But we’d like, hold hands and things_

_And get painted on-_

_Henna tattoos_

_Like real hipsters_

_And everyone would know he was mine_

_We wouldn’t wear shoes-or socks either_

_Because they’re like, an oppression of the world_

_Or summat  
I don’t know, I heard him say it once_

_When I asked why he walked around with no shoes_

_But I don’t like wearing socks either_

_So it works_

_We’d listen to all the no-name bands he likes_

_Just because, he likes them_

_And we’d sleep in a van_

_Because that’s the only way to end a real music festival_

_And when we get back we can like talk_

_About books and poets,_

_Like Frank O’Hara or Josh Ashbery or Molly Peacock or_

_Walt Whitman_

_And I can read him classical_

_And he’ll try to get me to love modern as much as he does,_

_It won’t really happen_

_I’ll pretend, though, because it’ll make him happy_

_And I like to see him happy_

_He likes jumpers too,_

_Chunky white cable knit, to be specific_

_I remember when we first kissed too,_

_It was like something opened up and all of a sudden_

_All I see is HarryHarryHarry_

_All I feel is HarryHarryHarry_

_All I hear is HarryHarryHarry_

_All I taste is HarryHarryHarry_

_And LipsLipsLips_

_And JumperJumperJumper_

_And wantwantwant_

_And needneedneed_

_And that’s probably the best word for this all_

_Need_

_Just pure, unadulterated need_

_And it should be annoying,_

_It should be aggravating, how much I need him_

_‘s wonderful, is what it is_

_Harry Styles, it what it is_

_I think that’s how you end a sonnet_

 

By the end of the poem, Harry is speechless. He looks up at Louis with what looks like tears in his eyes. “Louis.” Harry says, his voice cracking at the end. “I know it sucks, but I was rushing, because I fell asleep last night so I couldn’t finish it and-” Harry stops Louis’ rambling with a kiss. His tongue licking inside Louis’ mouth and swallowing up the words, before he could say them. Louis sucks Harry tongue a bit before whimpering at Harry biting his lip, so much that it leaves a line of blood. They both pull back, put of breath. “I-um, I love you, Louis.” Louis doesn’t answer just kind of stares at Harry. And Harry involuntarily starts shaking and, shit. “That’s okay, right? That I-? Fuck, fuck, shit, oh my god.” And that was the last Harry said before he runs out the door of the coffee shop. Not even giving Louis a chance to say anything. “I love you, too.” Louis gasps out, his words not mattering as Harry is long gone. “Fuck.” He breathes.

* * *

 

They go a solid week and a half. A solid week and a half of Louis’ ignored phone calls, then Harry’s ignored phone calls, and turning away if they ever end up crossing paths. And it’s complete shit, on both ends. But they break. They’re both walking into the coffee shop where Harry said the god forsaken three words and Louis catches Harry’s eyes just as he’s about to take a seat. Louis’ not giving up or walking away this time. He strolls over to Harry, looking him in the too-big green eyes he has and, “I love you, Harry. Jesus, and if you would have not run out on me and let me answer you before you freaked out, you would have known that almost two weeks ago.” Harry doesn’t respond just pushes his body up to meet Louis mouth. “Love you.” Harry pants once they pull back. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too,” Louis says grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him out of the coffee shop in a rushing.   
Where are we hurrying to?” Harry breathes trying his best not to bump into people and apologizing profusely if he does. “I need to show you I love you.” Harry freezes, because well. ‘Louis, are you saying we’re gonna have-?” Harry cuts off himself before Louis has the chance to, “Yes, sex. Harry styles, I think you’ve heard of it.”

They make it up to Louis’ flat in one piece (barely). And Louis is pushing Harry into his bedroom by his lips. He slams him down on the bed, straddling Harry’s lap. Louis laughs because Harry’s flushing and blushing and it really is oh, so cute. Louis leaves his position to go get the needed materials.

It’s uncomfortable at first, but they soon mold into one and Harry can’t feel pain, doesn’t even know what pain is. Just pleasure, and that’s all. Louis’ careful with him, a bit too careful, if you ask Harry. But it’s nice (like the way he stripped off Harry clothes one by one or the way he guided himself in or the way he lightly kissed Harry’s shoulder when Harry hissed from the intrusion or the way he made sure Harry was okay and comfortable before moving forward). He can only hear Louis’ quiet moans and his own soft chants of “Louis.” And it’s spluttering out like a mantra as Louis’ thrust get sporadic. The word ‘Louis’ become another stuttered vowel as a flash of white light blinds Harry and, shit. He collapses on the bed with Louis falling on top of him.

“I love you,” Louis breathes placing a chaste kiss atop Harry’s nose. “I love you, too.” Harry barely says, sated.

And later, when they’re both showered and clothed, Harry admits that Louis was his first and Louis just kisses Harry a bit harder, and holds him a bit tighter, and loves him a bit more.

* * *

 

Zayn has Liam’s heart. Liam has Zayn’s heart. They’re both sure of it. It’s like that thing when you feel an actual tug in yourself. And you can’t even breathe without them. And they’re both so far gone for each other, there’s no hope anymore.

They spend all their time together, now. Movies, work, art sessions, tattoo sessions, everything. Because Liam needs to be there for Zayn and Zayn wants him there.

And really, Louis put it best when he said, “you two should on the cover of perfect fucking gay couple magazine or summat” and when Liam told Louis “that magazine doesn’t exist” Harry butt in with a, “well if it did, you two would be on the cover. You’re so cute.” And maybe Liam blushed. And if Zayn made Liam flush later that night for an entirely different reason, his eyelashes dripping in Liam, well then only the two of them would know that.

* * *

 

“Zayn,” Liam says, eyes widening. “Yeah, I know.” Zayn sighs rubbing circles on Liam’s bare chest. “Don’t tell him please.” “Zayn,” Liam repeats breathing in deep before exhaling. “I know,” “You better.” “I love you, Liam. Okay, don’t leave me. When you find out that I’m really fucked up and in the long run nothing works out for me, please don’t leave.” “I promise, love you too.” Liam says placing a kissing on Zayn forehead before curling around him.

* * *

 

Harry’s eyes are hooded and he keeps fucking French inhaling and they’re lying naked on top of each other and Louis really wants to have his way with him. But Harry’s phone keeps ringing and it is really killing Louis’ buzz. “Harry, answer your fucking phone.” Louis growls leaning into the bowl for another pull. Harry huffs before pulling his phone out his jeans pocket lying in front of the couch. “Hullo?” he answers gruffly. Louis looks over to see if he can tell what the conversation is about by looking at Harry’s eyes or face. But both are blank. “Harry?” Louis asks tentatively. Harry drops the phone before running to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking himself in it. “Shit,” Louis mumbles before slipping on Harry’s gray jumper, watching it fall slightly above his knees, and walking to the bathroom. “Harry, what’s wrong?” Louis asks sweetly through the rotting white door of his bathroom door. “Zayn he-” That’s all Harry gets out before Harry is spluttering again. “Harry, let me in, please.” Harry unlocks the door and stares at Louis. Louis can’t tell if Harry’s eyes and pink because of the high grade weed he bought in Primrose Hill or the fact that he’s crying. He goes with the latter and pushes himself into the bathroom with Harry.

Louis soothes Harry as he tells him what’s happened. And really, Louis shouldn’t want to fucking punch Zayn’s face in this much.

* * *

 

A month. It lasts a month. Harry and Zayn completely ignore each other. Harry basically moves into Louis and Liam’s flat, but it got really awkward with Liam there, because he brought Zayn sometimes, so Liam decided they should move in together. Of course there were tears (from Louis) and good-byes until Liam smacked Louis on the head telling him, “I’m just a few blocks down, shut up.” But Louis clung to Liam and whined that “it’s not the same as waking up to your pretty face everyday, love.” And Liam had ordered Louis to “piss off.” It’s better this way, all four of them think. Except, Niall is just confused. But they let him be, because they only really happy thing right now and there’s no need to bring him down too.

Harry is at Zayn’s flat picking up his mail when Zayn walks in. “Harry,” he whispers causing Harry to jump a mile. “Zayn.” Harry replies, no emotion in his face. “I’m so sorry, okay. I never got a chance to like, apologize. But ’m so so sorry. Really.” Zayn pleads. “I know, Zayn. ‘M over it, really. I still  need time to be able to live with you or whatever.” Zayn nods, “Yeah. Okay. You’re at Louis’ and Liam’s here. It’s fine, we’re good though?” Harry nods and Zayn goes in for a hug. “I love you, Harry.” Harry nods again and, “I know.”

* * *

 

It’s only when he and Louis are splayed out on Louis’ bed when Harry brings it up. “I talked to Zayn today.” He starts. “Oh?” Louis inquiries snuggling up closer to Harry.

“Yeah, I told him I forgave him. But it’s gonna take me some time to like want to live or be around him that long, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it. That’s nice, though. That you talked to him and all. Me and Niall had a poll going for how long it would take you to crack. I won.”

“You’re horrid.” Harry shoves Louis’ chest, but the playfulness behind it showed it had no real meaning.

It’s a minute of comfortable silence then, “I don’t like lies, Louis.” Harry says quietly. “And the truth becomes a hole, something one has always known, a heaviness in the trees, and no one can say where it comes from, or how long it will stay a randomness, a darkness of one’s own.” Harry curls up to Louis a little bit more. “John Ashbery.” Harry mumbles. Louis sighs because, “Yeah.”

“You remember my crush, the one I told you about at the bookshop, the one who fell?” Harry brings up randomly.

“Yeah..?” Louis says not sure why his crush is relevant when he’s in bed with his fucking boyfriend. “It was you.” Harry whispers into Louis’ neck. And-oh. “I knew that,” Louis states. And it’s funny, because Louis didn’t know. “No, you didn’t.” Harry repeats. Louis doesn’t respond, just clings onto Harry tighter. And he decides he’s going to love him  just a little bit more (if that’s even possible that is).

(it is)

**Author's Note:**

> so lots of people have commented on how they don't understand what zayn did and i had an original thing but it all got deleted n i didn't rewrite it until a couple weeks afterwards so i forgot and i couldn't think of anything being that bad so i just left it  
> sorry :(


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